Continuously Complicated
by thouartasuckyperson
Summary: When Clarke decides to help Finn and Bellamy instead of running to the ship, things turn out surprisingly different and more complicated then expected. As things slowly spiral out of control, they learn dangerous secrets about the Arc, about the people who lead it, and about themselves. Bellarke. Begins the finale of season one, different outcome for season two.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I just recently re-watched the 100, and I fell in love with it all over again. I love the characters and I adore the plot, but I wanted a crack at it anyways. This fic is really just an alternate path for season 2, with different outcomes and maybe even (gasp) different love interests. This is a Bellarke story, but that's all I'm saying for now. I apologize in advance if there are any grammatical errors. Anyways, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, and I am not profiting from this in any way.**

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Continuously Complicated

Chapter One

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Clarke couldn't move. Wouldn't move. All she could do was stare, her heart pounding like a drum, and watch as the Grounder punched Bellamy square in the jaw, sending him tumbling to the ground. She was aware of Finn shouting behind her, and screamed his name as he shot out and sprinted towards Bellamy, tackling the Grounder and earning a well-aimed punch himself.

Someone was tugging on Clarke's sleeve, saying something Clarke couldn't hear. The noise of the fighting had faded away, as if she was hearing it from a great distance. She was only aware of Finn and Bellamy, and of the Grounder beating them into bloody messes. And it seemed Clarke couldn't look away.

"Clarke!" In an instant, the deafening roar of battle returned, shocking Clarke out of her stupor. She wrenched her gaze away from Finn and Bellamy, turned, and finally acknowledged the crazed teen beside her.

"Clarke, we need to go." He shouted, gesturing wildly at the ship, where people were sitting huddled together. When she didn't speak, he shook his head sadly. "Clarke, you can't save everyone."

One quick glance around could prove that. The Grounders were dominating, killing with such educated accuracy it was almost beautiful. The fact of the matter was that the Grounders were winning, and that the 100 were losing. Too many had fallen, and too many were in the process falling themselves.

Clarke zeroed in on Finn and Bellamy, who were still fighting desperately. She looked to the right and saw another teen's head fly clean off her body as a Grounder let out a victory howl. Someone was screaming her name again, but she ignored it. A Grounder charged to where she was sitting, but an assault of bullets sent it sprawling in the dirt. The amount of death was overwhelming.

With one look at the ship, Clarke had made her decision. She rounded on the teen, speaking clearly and with as much authority as she could muster. "Go in there and shut the door. Tell Jasper that I'm not coming, and _make_ him push the button. Tell him not to worry, that I'll come back. You got that?" He gave a shaky nod. "Alright. Now go!"

As the boy turned and sprinted for the ship, Clarke rose to her feet, pulling her knife out of its sheath. With one last deep, shaky breath, she advanced on the battle, slicing her way through a Grounder and dodging a kick aimed at her legs. She started to run, pushing her way past a crying teen and hopping over a fallen body, until she finally reached Finn and Bellamy. Finn was wrestling with the Grounder, trying in vain to push the heavy body off his own, and Bellamy was on the ground, still and silent. Clarke took two steps, hovering over the Grounder, and with one powerful swing, pushed the knife through the Grounders back, and then she did it again, and again. The Grounder jerked, rolling off of Finn, its meaty arms flailing as it attempted to pull out the knife. Clarke watched in morbid fascination as a trickle of blood oozed from the Grounder's mouth, and with one finale gasp, the Grounder went still. Before she could step back, Finn grabbed her hand, and the look of pure gratitude in his eyes was enough for Clarke's conscious.

Just because she couldn't save everyone, didn't mean she couldn't try.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm still debating if I will continue this fic, so reviews and comments would be greatly appreciated! I have the next chapter all written out, and I have a very basic plan for how this story goes, so updates should be fairly frequent. Again, thank you for reading and I would love to hear comments on what you did or didn't like and any concerns you may have regarding the story. Toodles!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, this is the next chapter! Thank you to everyone who has favorited/followed this story, and to everyone who left comments. I'm super glad you guys like this so far.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or it's characters, and I am not profiting from this in any way.**

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Continuously Complicated

Chapter Two

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_Before she could step back, Finn grabbed her hand, and the look of pure gratitude in his eyes was enough for Clarke's conscious._

The loud clang of the ship's door being closed stirred Clarke into movement. She pulled hard on Finn's hand, lifting him to his feet, and yanked her knife out of the Grounder's back. Rushing over to Bellamy's fallen form, she quickly checked for a pulse, and, when satisfied there was one, gestured for Finn to help her lift him.

"We need to find something to block out the blast." She said, supporting Bellamy's right side. "They're going to set off the jet fuel and we're going to die if we're anywhere near it." Finn grunted a yes, and they dragged Bellamy towards the outer wall, awkwardly pushing and pulling his unconscious form through one of the tunnels. The moment they were out of the tunnel, a deafening boom erupted from inside the camp, and Clarke was thrown sideways, knocking her head painfully on the ground. Bits of the wall flew off, and Clarke's vision blurred momentarily, red and orange and black dots dancing across her vision mesmerizingly.

Then, everything was quite.

With a groan, Clarke pulled herself into a sitting position, pushing off smoking bits of the wall from her torso. An annoying ringing was all she could hear, and a thin stream of blood was trickling from her nose.

Across from her, Finn was in the process of standing up, looking just as bad as Clarke felt. Bellamy was lying at the bottom of a tree, but he seemed to be breathing, which was good enough for Clarke.

"Clarke? Clarke, are you good?" The ringing was slowly fading away, replaced by Finn's insistent voice. He'd made his way over and was now crouching by her side, watching her with concerned eyes.

"Yeah…" She croaked, wiping at her nose. "Yeah, I think I'm good. Are you?"

"Pretty much. I just got knocked off my feet from the blast. Could've been worse I guess." He replied.

"Yeah, I'd take a nose-bleed over being barbecued any day." She snorted, wincing slightly as she rose to her feet. The mechanical sound of the door opening once again echoed past the wall, and then cheering erupted moments later. Clarke couldn't help but grin. If they were cheering, it obviously meant that the jet fuel idea worked, and just that was a huge relief for Clarke. It had been close, but they'd succeeded. They'd won.

Bellamy let out a groan, and Clarke rushed over to his side. He was lying face down in the dirt, so Clarke rolled him over as gently as she could, pushing his hair out from his face. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked several times before focusing on Clarke.

"Why, hello there princess. Fancy seeing you here." He wheezed, squeezing his eyes shut again momentarily. "What happened?"

"You got beat up pretty bad." Clarke replied, inspecting a bleeding gash on the side of his head.

"It really wasn't much of a fight. Kind of embarrassing, really, if you ask me." Finn was now standing over Bellamy, a slight grin playing on his lips. "Luckily for you, I swooped in and saved your sorry ass with my warrior-like skills." He demonstrated by punching the air and flexing his "muscles". Bellamy glanced at Clarke, who rolled her eyes.

"Actually, if I remember correctly, I was the one who put the knife in that guy's back. So, really, I helped out the most." That certainly sobered things up. A silence fell over the three of them, in which Clarke checked Bellamy for any serious injuries. Apart from the gash on the side of his head, which had stopped bleeding, he was fine. There was the possibility of a concussion, but they'd deal with that when and if it came. She was just about to help Bellamy up when Finn suddenly grabbed her arm in a vise-like grip. Surprised, she opened her mouth to retort, but one look at his face kept her silent. She followed his gaze, and let out a small gasp at what she saw.

Across the forest, still a ways away but moving quickly, was a group of strangely clad humanoids. They were weaving in and out of the trees with surprising professionalism, and they were steadily getting closer and closer to camp.

"What the _hell_ are they?" Clarke hissed.

"They're heading this way. That cannot be good." Finn groaned, his hand still clamped around Clarke's arm.

"What if they're more Grounders?" Bellamy said with poorly hidden nervousness, his eyes wide. "They could be reinforcements."

Clarke shook her head. They didn't look like Grounders, with their strange green suits, creepy gas masks, and guns. And they didn't move like Grounders either. They moved in a seemingly disciplined formation, never truly leaving its set ranks.

"They can't be Grounders. The real question is if they're friendly or not."

"I'm going to take a wild guess here and say that they aren't." Bellamy had stood up, and was leaning against a tree, watching the advancing group with a blank face. "So far, Earth hasn't had a single friendly occupant."

"Lincoln was friendly." Finn mumbled, finally releasing his hold on Clarke. Bellamy's face darkened at that.

"Yeah…whatever." He pushed himself off the tree, waving them towards the wall. "We should hurry, if we want to be ready for when they get here."

"This is just pea-" A sudden outburst of screams cut Finn off, and Clarke froze. Those screams had come from _inside_ the wall. To her horror, a cloud of orange-y red smoke began to rise from behind the wall, floating up and over it like a strangely colored fog.

Bellamy had started running towards the tunnel, and Clarke barely managed to snag his shirt sleeve before he got too close.

"Let go!" He growled, trying to pry her fingers off, but Clarke held strong.

"Don't! Bellamy, if you go in there, you'll be the same as everyone else!" He yanked his arm, causing her to tumble forward and she hit the ground, taking him down with her. He immediately got up, finally releasing himself from her grip, but didn't get far as she lunged and grabbed his ankle, pulling him down once again.

"Clarke, let go NOW!" He shouted, shaking his foot wildly. "We need to help them!"

"Bellamy, if you go in there, you can't help them! Getting yourself killed or trapped or injured isn't doing anyone any good!" She shouted back, her eyes boring into his. He avoided her gaze, but ceased his desperate kicking, his expression pure rage.

"Fine." He spat, pulling his leg viciously from her grip, and pointing a finger threateningly in her direction. "But if anything happens to them, this one is on you." He stood up, turning his back to Clarke and staring at the strange smoke.

Clarke was suddenly yanked sideways, and went tumbling into a small mass of bushes. Finn had his arm wrapped around her center, pulling her against him. He was gesturing wildly, whisper-shouting at Bellamy, who finally noticed. Glancing behind him, his face went from anger to shock, and he practically swan-dived into some bushes across from Finn and Clarke, hidden from view.

Moments later, the group of humanoids came jogging past them, guns at the ready. Clarke watched as, one by one, they crawled through the small tunnel in the wall and disappeared on the other side. Clarke held her breath. The strange smoke was gone, and shouting could be heard, though she couldn't make out what they were saying. Luckily, there were no gun shots. Unluckily, that could mean the smoke was poisonous and that everyone was already dead. She didn't know which one she liked better.

Just as suddenly as the people had come, they were leaving. But, they were leaving with more then what they had come with. Each person had a pack filled with what Clarke could only assume was the 100's supplies, and most had bodies thrown over their shoulders, or they carried them behind themselves on strange makeshift stretchers. She felt Finn take a sharp breath as the seemingly unconscious form of Jasper was carried past them, his head bobbing back and forth precariously.

They waited a few more moments once everyone had gone. The camp was dead quite, the sound of footsteps slowly fading away as the people got farther and farther away. Clarke was breathing hard, her heart pounding, and she felt sick. Those people were obviously dangerous. They had guns, and weird smoke, and they walked like soldiers. Not only that, they had probably taken most of their supplies, and the rest of the 100.

Clarke let out a long, shaky breath and hung her head in defeat.

Some victory that was.

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**A/N: Hi, and thanks for reading! This chapter was a bit longer than the last, and chapter lengths will vary from here on. I'll try to make them this length or even a little longer, but I might not always stay true to that. I realize that this chapter is still sort of an intro chapter, since it's still more or less a part of the season one finale, but after this it branches out more. Also, for you Bellarke people, I'm going to slowly build to that. I want it to be fairly realistic. Again, thanks to everyone who favorited/ followed this story, and everyone who left comments. It's really really really appreciated, and it honestly makes my day. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So here's the next chapter! Just as a warning, this chapter does have swearing in it, so be prepared if you don't like that sort of stuff. Also, there's a little Bellarke, so that's always nice. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, and I am not profiting from this in any way.**

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Continuously Complicated

Chapter Three

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_Those people were obviously dangerous. They had guns, and weird smoke, and they walked like soldiers. Not only that, they had probably taken most of their supplies, and the rest of the 100._

Clarke stood up, pushing herself off and away from Finn roughly. Her head was throbbing, and she felt like sitting down and crying. Did nothing ever work out here on this blasted planet? It seemed that nothing went their way, and that nothing ever would. First, they start a war with a group of blood-thirsty, vicious, animalistic humans, who practically destroy them. Then, just when things look up, they get attacked and _kidnapped_ by creepy, gas-mask-wearing weirdos. By this point, Clarke wasn't even sure what to expect next.

Bellamy rose from his own cover of bushes, a look of determination in his eyes. He started out into the woods, not even bothering to look back and see if Clarke and Finn were following.

"Bellamy! Wha-" Finn started, but Clarke cut him off, already turning to run after Bellamy.

"Finn, don't. We need to know where they're taking our friends, alright?" Finn glared at her turned back, mumbling some aggressive words under his breath about the stupidity of humans, but jogged after her nonetheless.

The Green Guys (as Finn had chosen to call them) were not hard to follow. Clarke, Finn, and Bellamy caught up with them almost immediately, since they were now loaded with extra weight from the 100's supplies and bodies, slowing them down. Creeping silently just a small ways behind them, sometimes ducking to hide behind bushes and thick trees, Clarke, Finn, and Bellamy stalked the Green Guys through the forest, sometimes recognizing where they were, and sometimes not. Finally, after what felt like hours, the Green Guys stopped beside what looked like the entrance to a tunnel. They then began to enter said tunnel, and only a few seconds after the last one had disappeared into its depth did Clarke, Finn, and Bellamy rise from their covers, approaching the entrance of the tunnel cautiously.

Bellamy took a tentative step forward, only to be blocked by Finn, who leaped in front of the tunnels entrance rather dramatically.

"We can't go in there." He said hurriedly his, his pale face betraying how scared he truly felt. "Those are Reaper tunnels. We can't go in there."

"Come _on, _Finn. Now is not the time to wuss out." Bellamy groaned, a hand shooting up and snaking through his hair nervously. "We've come this far, and what would we be to stop now?"

"Smart. Not _dead_." Clarke supplied, pushing past him to stand beside Finn, who was nodding his head in agreement.

"You didn't go in there, Bellamy. You have no freaking idea what it was like."

"It doesn't matter what it like. We need to get our friends, we need to help them." Bellamy insisted, his eyes wide.

"Look, we know where they are now. We also know that they're in the home of a bunch of animalistic cannibals, who will eat us alive the moment they see us." Clarke hissed, taking a threatening step forward towards Bellamy. "Unless you want to take your chances with your one gun and run on in there and get murdered, I think we should go back to camp and see what's left so we can come back here later and not fucking die." Bellamy seemed to take her harsh words as a challenge, stepping forward himself.

"Say we do that. We come back later with maybe one more gun and a sharp fucking stick we found lying on the ground! But who's to say we won't be too late? Maybe they'll all already be dead, or tortured or dying. Our extra gun and stupid tree branch won't be able to change that."

Bellamy and Clarke began to stare each other down, their eyes practically spitting fire, and Finn, worried about their safety, held his hands up in a placid gesture, gently tugging Clarke's sleeve. She barely acknowledged him, but shook her head roughly nonetheless, breaking whatever death-stare match her and Bellamy were participating in. Bellamy leaned back, but continued watching Clarke with a blank expression. If it hadn't been for his eyes, which were dark and smoldering and thoughtful, she would've thought nothing of it. But something about his gaze made her nervous, like she was trapped, and she glanced away quickly, her mind running a mile a minute.

"Fine." He said softly, still staring, still watching. "Have it your way."

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Clarke sighed, throwing the bloody cloth into the small pail beside Raven, wincing slightly as she rose to her feet. She stretched, trying to fight a yawn that came anyways, and walked to the other side of the bunker, as far away from Raven and Finn and Murphy and Bellamy as she could make herself in the enclosed space. To say she was tired wold be an understatement. She felt drained, like her limbs weren't hers, like her _thoughts _weren't hers. It had been an incredibly long day, and all she wanted to do was sleep, but, of course, even something as simple as that was asking for too much.

Since Bellamy had backed down, they'd returned to camp as planned. What they found was a pile of ash with a ship in the middle, its dark hull looking colorful compared to the grey soot all around it. The Green Guys had gutted the place, leaving nothing but two injured and (in Raven's case) dying teens. Finn had immediately rushed to Raven, gathering her into his arms, and Bellamy had rushed to Murphy, but his intentions were not as loving. Clarke purposefully let him get in a few good punches before practically tackling Bellamy, fearing he would go all the way and kill Murphy in cold blood.

The five of them then decided staying at camp was not safe, since the Grounders were still out there, and now there was the threat of the strange Green Guys returning as well. So they made a rather sketchy stretcher of out some sticks laying around, laid Raven down in it, and tied Murphy up with some left-over rope, leading them out of camp and through the forest till they reached the familiar spot of the bunker. Once inside, Clarke laid Raven down on the cot, checking her wound, which had not improved. She did the best she could, cleaning it off and re-bandaging it, but that wouldn't be good enough. Clarke knew it, and Raven knew it too.

Someone tapped Clarke's shoulder, and she turned to see Bellamy. His dark hair was matted with dried blood, and his face was covered in cuts and dirt, the small scar above his upper lip hidden in the muck. He was staring directly into her eyes with an unreadable expression, and Clarke had to physically force herself to hold his gaze.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his expression still annoyingly blank.

"Of course," She replied looking away briefly. "I mean, as okay as I can be given the current situation." Bellamy nodded, glancing over his shoulder to where Finn and Raven were sitting, their heads almost touching as they talked in quiet tones.

"Is she going to be alright?" He asked carefully, returning his gaze to Clarke. She snorted, her shoulders slumping forward.

"God… please don't ask me that Bellamy. She's barely holding on now…" Her voice broke. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Sorry. I know I'm being weak and fragile, but I just- This sucks. This sucks SO much." Clarke opened her eyes. Bellamy had stepped closer, close enough Clarke had to tilt her head slightly to look him in the eye.

"You aren't being weak, Clarke." He murmured, his voice incredibly soft. "You don't need to apologize for being human."

"But it's just that. I don't have time for being human."

"Of course you do."

"No, I don't!" She said sharply, but softened her tone. Moments like these with Bellamy were a rare thing indeed, and she didn't want to break whatever they were sharing with harsh words. Shaking her head, she continued. "There are too many people relying on me, on us. I can't get choked up over every loss, because god knows I'd always be crying. I need to be strong. Being a blubbering mess isn't helping anybody. It's not helping Raven, or Finn, and it's certainly not helping everyone trapped in those stupid Reaper tunnels. So, no. I don't have time"

Bellamy had listened with a blank face, but now something unknown glinted in his eyes.

Reaching upwards, he gently wrapped a lock of Clarke's hair around his finger, pulling it softly before tucking it behind her ear. He was watching her with those dark eyes of his, eyes that seemed to catch the light and twinkle mesmerizingly at every angle. Eyes that were now staring at and through her, stripping her very being down to the core and leaving bits of her soul hanging out in the open, fit for anyone's taking.

Clarke's breath caught in her chest as he leaned forward, his breath warm and alluring against her ear. He smelt like sweat and blood and pine, and something that was so completely and utterly Bellamy it made Clarke's heart surge. When he spoke, his voice was unbelievably soft, and it sent shivers down her spine.

"Well then, Princess, you better make time."

And, just like that, he was gone, stepping back and taking his oh-so-pleasant warmth with him. Her heart was hammering painfully against her chest, and she felt like a deer in the headlights, frozen in place. He held her gaze as he backed away slowly, the smallest hint of a smirk shadowing his lips, before finally turning and making is way over to the huddled Finn and Raven, who pulled apart slightly in greeting.

Clarke could feel Finn's questioning gaze, and, realizing how stupid she probably looked with her blushing cheeks and dumb-founded expression, quickly made her way over and sat down heavily beside Raven. They were talking about naming the bunker, and Finn was throwing out things like, "Big Daddy" and "Better than Being Outside". Raven would laugh, and then cough, and Finn's expression would darken slightly and he'd try even harder to seem nonchalant. Clarke gladly joined in, rolling her eyes at the inappropriate and random names Finn thought up, all the while avoiding the very thoughtful and (though she'd never admit it) rather endearing gaze of Bellamy Blake.

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**A/N: Thanks for readying! I know, I know, this chapter was a little slow, but at least there was a little bit of Bellarke. Just as a heads-up, the next chapter might take a little longer to upload, so don't worry if it's not up in the next few days. Thank you to everyone who has followed/favorited this story, and to everyone who has left comments. It honestly makes me so so so SO happy, and I appreciate it a whole bunch!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's the next chapter, peoples! Sorry for the longer update. Please be aware that there is swearing in this chapter, so if you don't like that sort of stuff, be ready. Thanks, and happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, and I am not profiting from this in any way. **

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Continuously Complicated

Chapter Four

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Clarke woke up before anyone else.

She'd fallen asleep sitting against the wall, her body now stiff and sore from the awkward position. The bunker was almost pitch black save for three candles glimmering at the bottom of the ladder, their flickering light seeming ominous and off-putting rather than warm and friendly. For a moment, Clarke allowed the quiet to wash over her. She looked at the outline of Raven and Finn, who were sleeping soundly in the middle of the bunker, curled together to form a jumble of legs and arms. Clarke briefly wondered if that was alright to do in Ravens condition, but dismissed the thought. She looked into the shadows where Bellamy would be, his normally stern face peaceful as he drifted off somewhere beyond reality. She thought about yesterday, and what Bellamy had smelled like and how his breath had tickled her hair, and how his eyes had been so dark and endless and-

She shook her head quickly, frowning slightly. Better to not think about yesterday, apparently.

Clarke patted the ground beside her until she hit a soft surface, which was a backpack she'd filled with some basic supplies yesterday before going to sleep. Pulling the straps over her shoulders, she rose to her feet, quietly making her way to the ladder, where she stopped, hovering above the candles. For some unknown reason, she had a strong urge to blow the candles out, and throw the bunker into a thick darkness. It seemed strangely fitting, like the black was a representation of something complex and important, something Clarke could not comprehend in that moment. It was a powerful feeling, to have a metaphor hovering just beyond your fingertips; that if you just reached forward ever-so-slightly, you could grasp it and suddenly give meaning to a normally unimportant thing. Clarke liked that feeling. She liked that power.

"Running away already, oh wondrous leader?" It was just a hoarse whisper, but it was enough to scare Clarke out of her skin. She gasped, jumping forward slightly and kicking a candle over, thus snuffing out all three of them. The darkness that suddenly seemed to leech from the depths of the bunker did not feel metaphorical. It felt creepy and dangerous and unsettling, and Clarke immediately regretted even considering feeling like the dark made her powerful.

"Murphy, what the _fuck_." She hissed, grasping one of the rungs of the ladder with a shaky hand, her heart pounding against her chest as she leaned gratefully against it. It had completely flew her mind that they'd tied Murphy to a grate on the floor only inches from the ladder, and she'd hardly considered he'd be awake. She supposed it made sense. Murphy was the kind of person who would find comfort in the dark.

"Don't curse at me." He scoffed, his voice echoing eerily from the shadows. "I didn't even know our little angel sent from above had that sort of vocabulary."

"Honestly, go back to sleep. Or brooding. Or whatever creepy assholes like you normally do this early in the morning." The darkness was suddenly suffocating her, and she placed a leg shakily on the first rung, wincing at how it creaked under her weight.

"Where are you going?"

"None of your business." Clarke snarled back, taking another step up.

"Actually, it is my business, since my survival sort of relies on you _not_ running away and leaving us all." Clarke paused on the fifth rung.

"Do you honestly have no faith in me? Of course I'm not running away." She huffed, not missing his small snort.

"You've given me no reason to have faith in you, _princess._" Clarke merely glared into the darkness, resuming her unsteady climb upwards.

"Clarke, come _on_." Murphy groaned, "I thought you had more sense than to run away mysteriously."

"I said I was coming back." Clarke hissed down in response.

"Clarke, I swear to god if you take one more step I will scream."

She paused. "Don't you _dare_." Despite the threat, she placed her foot on the next rung, and hissed when it let out a slow creak. There was a beat of silence, and then:

"HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, THERE'S A BURGLAR IN OUR SWEET, SWEET HOME!"

Clarke nearly fell off the ladder. Murphy's scream seemed to echo in the bunker, amplifying it to an impressive volume. She could hear ruffling and a few vulgarities, and then there was a click and a bright beam of light swept the room, falling on Murphy, who held his tied hands up in front of his face to block out the light.

"Murphy, you have two fucking seconds to explain why the fuck you just screamed." Bellamy's still-hoarse but extremely pissed off voice blared, his angry footsteps thumping against the ground as he approached Murphy's restrained form. In response, Murphy merely nodded upwards, a small smirk gracing his features, and Clarke wanted nothing more then to slap it off.

Wincing as the light flew to her own form, Clarke held her breath, waiting for the accusations to come flying forward. Her back was to Bellamy, but she could still fear his anger, pulsing through the room like a drum.

"Clarke, what are you doing?" It wasn't Bellamy that spoke, but Raven, her voice weak and frail. Finn had begun lighting candles, and as the faint glow slowly spread out, Clarke's stomach began to twist itself into one painful knot. She carefully climbed down from the ladder, ducking her head to avoid the harsh beam of the flash light.

"Can you please turn that off?" She sighed, rubbing a hand across her face tiredly.

"Where were you going?" He shot back, his voice low and dangerous.

"Nowhere." The lie sounded weak, even to Clarke.

"Bullshit. Where were you going?" Clarke glanced behind Bellamy to where Raven was lying, her face covered in shadows.

"Bellamy, please turn off the light." She repeated, sighing slightly as a click sounded and the light disappeared. She could now see his face, his eyes searching her own, and she avoided his piercing gaze guiltily. She took a hesitant step forward, dropping her voice low so only Bellamy could hear.

"Don't freak out, okay?" Bellamy grunted, urging her to continued, "But I… I was going to the Grounders." Bellamy's reaction was almost instantaneous. He took a huge step back, his eyebrows high on his face, and stared at Clarke with a slack jaw, spluttering.

"Why in the hell would you go to the Grounders!?"He shouted, loud enough Clarke could hear Murphy let out an inconsiderate howl of joy.

"Because we need their help!" She hissed, glaring him down. "Raven is hurting, I have no way to save her, but maybe they do! Some sort of plant, or medicine or… or anything!" Bellamy was shaking his head in disbelief.

"Are you fucking out of your mind? Have you forgotten we're at _war_ with them? That they tried to murder us? That they _kidnapped_ our friends?" His face was turning red with frustration, his eyes practically wild. Clarke could see Raven and Finn watching them, could feel their eyes boring into her face, but she ignored them, focusing on the rage-filled man in front of her.

"Obviously not! I figured maybe I could sneak in an-"

"Oh my _god_!" Bellamy groaned, a hand snaking through his hair as he stared at Clarke in utter disbelief. "Are you actually that naive? Are you _that _stupid?"  
"I am not naive!" Clarke snarled back, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You sure seem like it." Bellamy hissed, taking a threatening step forward. "Just because you grew up being allowed to do whatever the hell you wanted with no consequences doesn't mean you can now. This is the real world, _princess. _Your mommy isn't going to come running to the rescue every time you go dancing through a dangerous situation like some stupid little girl." His hands were waving around wildly, and he was standing close enough Clarke tilt her head to look him in the eyes. She stuck out her chin, trying desperately to look menacing even while he was towering over her, and fixed him with a glare capable of melting ice.

"I'm only trying to help, Bellamy! Raven is… shes…" Clarke let out a frustrated growl, her hands clenched so tight her finger nails cut into her palms. "At least I'm fucking trying!" Bellamy barked out a cruel laugh.

"You never do _anything_ wrong, do you? You're just too _special_ for that. Getting yourself kidnapped and tortured by Grounders is 'helping'. Running away and abandoning us is 'helping'. Every single decision you've made has fucked us over!" He shrieked back, his voice steadily rising. "But you know what? Enough! Stop sticking your self-righteous little ass in business you have no place being! God knows we wouldn't be here if you weren't such a fucking ignorant little _child_." The pure venom injected in the last word caught her off guard. She took a hasty step back, knocking against the ladder which she grasped gratefully, her hands shaking slightly as they squeezed the cold metal. The bunker was dead silent, and Clarke was sure she could hear the flickering of candles in the deep quiet that enveloped them. Bellamy's chest was rising and falling and his face was still flushed from screaming, but the rage in his eyes was slowly fading. He brought both hands up through his hair once again, something Clarke was beginning to recognize as a nervous habit, and fisted them there, pulling on it slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut. No one moved, no one even seemed to breath, and Clarke could simply stare, wide-eyed, at Bellamy, whose eyes remained glued shut.

She knew Bellamy was opposed to her, but she never thought he was _that_ opposed to her. Hell, she'd even thought they'd been getting along. And if anything was testimony to that, it was last night, when he'd been so unbearably kind. Eyes stinging, she tried desperately to gain her footing, to force the look of incredulous shock and hurt to slide off her features. She didn't need to look to know everyone's eyes (save Bellamy's, who's seemed permanently frozen shut) were locked on her face, radiating pity and awkwardness. God, why did she feel so hurt? Shouldn't she be used to this whole hatred thing from Bellamy, seeing as how he'd been doing it since day one?

Without a word, she turned and propelled herself up the ladder, ignoring the way her legs seemed to shake on each rung. Pushing the small trap door at the top of the ladder up and open, Clarke heaved herself out of the bunker, momentarily blinded by the intense light of the morning. Standing stiffly in the small clearing of trees, she took deep breaths of the clean air, willing her legs to stop shaking, willing her heart to stop pounding. Before she was even aware, her legs were moving, and she was hurtling through the forest, crashing into hanging branches and stumbling over roots. She didn't know where she was running, or why, for that matter. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and feelings, mixing themselves together to create a huge, confusing mess: Bellamy this and Raven that, Finn over there and Murphy somewhere else. Frustration blended with anger, and anger with embarrassment, and seemingly every emotion Clarke had felt in the last few days merged together to create one giant pit in her stomach, weighing her down. When her foot suddenly caught on a loose stone and she pitched forwards, landing in a heap on the dirt ground, she barely even felt it.

Curling in on herself, she pushed her face into her leg, trying to contain the small heaves clawing their way out of her throat. One escaped, and she wove her hands into her hair, yanking at it helplessly in an attempt to distract herself. Clarke didn't cry. She wouldn't. Not over something as silly as Bellamy yelling at her. A tear slipped from her eye, which she wiped away unceremoniously.

"I don't care." She whispered, her voice hoarse and muffled against her leg. "I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, _I don't care_." Another sob escaped her and she rolled onto her back, her hand pressed over her mouth. She stared at the tops of the trees and the light blue sky peeking through. She bit down on her finger hard, and hissed at the hot flash of pain that seared through her. Tasting blood, she squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing thickly.

"It doesn't matter." She whispered, wincing at how hollow her voice sounded. Clarke knew it was a lie. God, the _Earth_ seemed to know it was a lie, because the sudden cheerful melody of birds sprung up above her, drifting down and surrounding her in a mocking sort of way. Bitterness surged through her. If those stupid birds could be happy, then so could she.

Swiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she heaved herself up, turning in the direction of which she (thought) she came. With one last glare at the treetops and annoyingly pleasant birds, she set off, a sudden determination for who knows what surging through her very being.

Fuck this planet. And, more importantly, fuck Bellamy Blake.

* * *

**A/N: Hi guys! Sorry for the longer update. I really don't have an excuse, except for the fact that I lacked motivation. Please note, though, that the updates will most likely continue to be that long. This chapter was a little weak, I admit, but no matter. Also, did anyone catch the double meaning behind fuck Bellamy Blake? I thought that was clever. Anyways, thank you to everyone who has followed and/or favorited this story, and to everyone who has left reviews. It truly makes me so happy to know people like it so far, and I love when you guys sort of get into the story and ask questions about it. If you have any questions and/or concerns regarding this story, feel free to leave a comment or message me. Again, thank you so much for reading! **


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